


You're A Good Mormon, Elder Price

by elderprices



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: First Time, M/M, Oral Sex, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-24
Updated: 2015-10-24
Packaged: 2018-04-27 22:49:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5067862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elderprices/pseuds/elderprices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The missionaries are assigned new companions for the next three months, and Elder Price’s new roommate brings out things in himself he never thought he was capable of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The chalkboard had been erased by breakfast. And Kevin could barely touch his food.

The rest of the missionaries buzzed with that Monday morning excitement. The excitement that comes the third Monday of the next month, when the district leader saunters up to the board with hat in hand, shuffles the handwritten slips, and daintily chalks up the new pairings drawn. A random grab bag of endless disappointments, it seemed. These past three months was a particularly embarrassing run alongside meek Elder Thomas, who barely said a word to Kevin besides “pass the Pop Tarts” or “don’t touch my Pop Tarts” or the rare “would you _like_ a Pop Tart?” By this point, the name of the pastry alone was enough to make Elder Price heave.

And the time before that was with a particularly frustrated Elder Davis, who Kevin was sure stayed up past curfew, palming himself to what certainly was not scripture hidden under his mattress. And before that was a skittish Elder Church, and before that was loud Elder Schrader–cumbersomely replaced by an even louder Elder Widmar after the _accident_. Elder Neeley–snored. Elder Michaels–sleep talked. Elder Zelder–didn’t sleep at all, merely sitting on his bed every night flipping loudly through comic books. Sometimes he wished the rules were set so that Kevin could remain Elder Cunningham’s current companion for the run of their mission. He may not have been the best, but at least he was kind and considerate and naive enough that Kevin could slip a cup of coffee without him saying much. But, as Elder McKinley had stated time and time again, the rules were rules, and though they were no longer a registered district, it was his job to continue to operate the mission as one. To create a sense of uniform, if nothing else. As if these ties and itchy shirts weren’t enough.

The missionaries grew to a hush when the district leader emerged from his room with glittery hat in hand and a wide smile on his face. He set the top hat on the table. Dramatically raised his right hand with a flourish. Dipped his fingertips into the pool of names. And drew the first victim.

“Elder Cunningham…” And he picked another. Then he swiveled to the board without a word, allowing the suspense to sink in. Who would be paired with Elder Cunningham this time? Who could it be? The suspense, _the suspense…_

In his lovely cursive, Elder McKinley scrawled the first pair for the rest to see: Elder Cunningham and Elder Widmar. Arnold immediately jolted up from his seat on the floor in a victorious cheer, and turned to behold the less-than-pleased pallor of Widmar. Price’s heart dropped. He had hoped, by some sheer stroke of luck, he would be paired back up with his companion, but there seemed to be a higher power existing solely to disappoint Kevin time and time again.

“Elder Thomas and…” McKinley unfurled the strip of paper and gave a light laugh, “Elder Church, again!” He chalked it up. The two new companions tossed their arms around the other’s shoulders, obviously satisfied.

The suspense was down, and now the district leader continued with less drama and more productivity. “Elder Zelder and Elder Neeley–ooh, _fun_! You two haven’t roomed together before, have you? You’ll have lots of fun together.” He shook the hat, now close to empty, and ooh’d and ahh’d with usual excitement. “Getting close to the bottom now, gang. Who will our next lucky Elders be?” as if he were auctioning off a car or a house or something of even minimal value. He hummed a drumroll–the more enthusiastic Elders joined in on their laps–and he pulled the next name.

“El-der _Price_!” in a graceful singsong. The missionaries turned to Kevin, oozing with their secondhand anticipation. He couldn’t even muster enough to feign interest. Who will it be this time? A drooler, a slob, a sleepwalker? A rebel to the rules? Elder McKinley pulled the name, unfolded the paper, and stopped short. A blush grew across his freckled cheeks. And he gave a tiny laugh of absolute surprise. Elder Thomas leaned over the couch, hopping on the cushions, unable to contain himself.

“Well?” He squeaked. An equally enthusiastic Elder Neeley nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, who’s Elder Price’s partner?”

Elder McKinley whipped up his piece of chalk with a proud beam.

“Me!” He chirped. And he scrawled up his name beside his “Elder Price”, dotting the i’s with hearts.

Elder Price sunk into his seat.


	2. Chapter 2

This room had a reputation. Elder Price felt uncomfortable even sitting in it, if only because he felt obligated to feel uncomfortable.

He was sure what had gone on in these twin beds prior to today had been nothing short of unsavory and uncouth. And what was under his mattress, disgusting. What was hidden in his floral suitcase, or stashed in his nightstand, or maybe even tucked beneath a loose floorboard–enough to bring a blush to Elder Price’s cheeks.

Elder McKinley sauntered in with a stack of paperwork that he placed gingerly on his desk. Price watched with a certain intrigue, and the redhead chuckled when he noticed.

“Just some monthly mission reports I have to fill out.” He pulled a pink post-it off and stuck it neatly in the corner of the top sheet. “Just because we’re shut down doesn’t mean we can’t be unaccounted for.” He scribbled a short reminder. “Maybe you can help me file these later tonight.” A laugh. “Don’t look so excited, Elder Price!” McKinley hopped over to his bed, already made and primped, and sat cross legged to watch Price begin to unpack.

" _Are_ you excited?“ The district leader asked, as if he could answer honestly. Elder Price flashed an all too fake smile.

” _Thrilled_.“

"I know, I know. I’m no Elder Cunningham.” The redhead giggled. “But if you really want, we can make arrangements. I was the best actor in my troupe back in New York.” He mussed his hair, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his top button, and scrunched his face into his collar. An astounding likeness to their prophet, the famous Arnold Cunningham. Elder Price tried his best to stay stoic, to stay serious and focused–to no avail. A smile cracked, and Elder McKinley practically gushed with euphoric joy.

"That’s it, Elder! _Smile_!“ He leaned over to nudge the boy with his elbow. "Just because you’re rooming with the district leader doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to have fun!”

Elder Price recoiled. Was that a reference to some sort of… homoeroticism? Was Elder McKinley already… already _hitting_ on him? He shuddered.

"I’m sorry.“ Kevin stood, shuffled to the corner of the room, far from where he could be permeated by the leader’s blatant homosexuality. "I’m… I’m not gay.”

Elder McKinley’s eyebrows furrowed. Then he smiled even wider and laughed so hard he toppled over onto the mattress. His feet kicked wildly in the air. Kevin rolled his eyes and set back to making his bed, and to packing his things in his drawer. Eventually, McKinley calmed down enough to take a breath, and soon enough he collapsed entirely onto his bed.

"See?“ He huffed. "I told you we’d have fun.” With surprising energy, he turned over onto his belly, glancing up to Elder Price. “And this is just the beginning! We can stay up telling ghost stories! Or we can talk about our crushes! Oooh! We can play ‘Never Have I Ever’, like my sisters used to! It always seemed so fun, but of course they never let me play because 'you’re a boy and boys can’t play games with girls at girls-only sleepovers’…”

Elder Price was astounded at the speed of McKinley’s words. His mouth ran at an alarming rate, and sentence upon sentence spilled out like a spitting tap. And yet, with all that work he put to his words, no meaning came along with his non sequiturs. He talked without a purpose, and for hours on end. Elder Price wondered if he could leave the room, go down to the Kafe, and come back to find the district leader still rambling on. It wouldn’t surprise him.

"…Elder Price, are you still there?“

"What?”

"You kind of spaced out for a second.“ Elder McKinley rested his chin on his hands thoughtfully. "Thinking about how much fun we’ll have together?” He stood and dusted his shirt off. “Oh! But you’re not _gay_ , right.” All too seductively, almost to mock Elder Price, the district leader leaned against the doorframe and bit his lip. “What a shame.” He gestured with a sharp flick of his wrist for his companion to follow him. “Rule 72, Elder.” A biting reminder. The brunette dropped his things–he would tend to them later, he guessed–and regrettably followed suit into the living room.

"I hope you all have settled into your rooms by now.“ Elder McKinley called to the rest of the missionaries, most of which had already obediently gathered back by the chalkboard. The district leader pulled a clipboard from the bulletins to read the assignments of the day, and announced with a sweetly authoritative voice that he would be handing out jobs for the week. Elder So-and-so and his friend Elder Such-and-such would be who knows where doing who knows what, etcetera etcetera. And the list thinned in no time, and the missionaries were off to work with a whistle.

Elder Price stood awkwardly, uncomfortably alone in the now empty room. The district leader placed his clipboard back in its spot and smiled wide.

"Do you mind helping me with some personal stuff, Elder? It goes much faster with an extra pair of hands.”

Was that… _innuendo?_

Elder McKinley led Price back into their room, and pulled a stack of heavy boxes out from the closet.

"It’s these books. They’re the bane of my existence, and–“ he turned to assure Elder Price,”–it’s not that I don’t adore what Arnold’s done for the village. I do, with all my heart. But these books–every month we get in another shipment of three hundred and everyone wants a copy and everyone wants theirs signed, and Arnold’s always so busy with publicity and community work that he can’t possibly do everything.“ He ripped open a box, filled to the brim with garishly bound Books of Arnold. Kevin picked one up, flipped through the pages. McKinley was quick to snatch it up.

"So it’s my job–” and he apologized sweetly, “–sorry, _our_ job to handle his publishing. We’re his team, you and me.” Kevin picked up another book.

"So what does that entail?“ He shrugged. Elder McKinley was prepared to answer, and had already scuttled over to his desk. Out of the top drawer he pulled a stamp and some ink, a stack of parchment, and some heavy twine.

"We are in charge of signing and distributing the books. Look, I’ll show you.” He placed down the book already in his hand, flipped to the first page, and stamped a crummy Arnold Cunningham signature underneath the title. Then he wrapped it in parchment and tied it tightly with twine, like a shoddy Christmas gift. Kevin pursed his lips.

"Arnold has you sign his books?“ He handed over the next copy for McKinley to stamp. "Isn’t that a little dishonest?”

"The religious business is no doubt a dishonest one, Elder.“ He spoke slow, with all the old wisdom of a great philosopher. "But it gives people hope.” He pulled tight the twine around the next package. “And Heavenly Father knows that’s what this town needs.”

"It’s what we _all_ need.“ Kevin added. The district leader stopped short. And gave a small smile of agreement.

"I guess so.” He shrugged. “But especially the people around here. At least we can leave eventually. They’re here forever.”

"And Arnold’s book really helps them?“ Something in Price was impressed with his former companion. Elder McKinley reached for another copy.

"It helps as much as much as the Book of Mormon helped us. Maybe even more so. The Book of Arnold is entertaining as all heck to read, for one thing. I’m sure you know more than anyone, though, being Elder Cunningham’s former companion.” Kevin tapped his fingers against the bright red cover of a book. He chuckled.

“To be honest, I… I’ve never actually read it.” He admitted with a smile. Elder McKinley looked up, a goofy grin in place, genuinely surprised with his partner.

“You _haven’t_?”

“I never thought I really had to.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “I heard so much of his nonsense first hand that I figured I didn’t have to read a whole book about it.” His eyes glanced over to the copy McKinley was hastily wrapping. “It’s really that good?” The district leader nodded.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, Elder,” he tied the twine tight with a neat bow, “but the Book of Arnold has helped me through some pretty tough times. Maybe it’ll help you.”

Kevin swallowed hard, and shoved his hands into his pockets in a huff.

“I don’t know if I need that much help, Elder McKinley.” His voice came out with a crack. The district leader smiled.

“It never hurts to read a book, then.” With a laugh, he handed over the copy he had just finished packaging. “I’ll even give you an autographed copy.”

—

“How do you like your companions, guys?”

Elder Davis took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged, “It’s kind of early to start coming to conclusions, isn’t it?”

Elder Price groaned.

“We weren’t all lucky enough to be paired up with a former companion.” His eyes pointed to Elder Church, who stared back with matched intensity. Elder Widmar took a swig of his milk like a shot of whiskey and grimaced.

“What’re you complaining about, Elder Price? You got the district leader. I would do anything to be back with Elder McKinley.” Some of the missionaries nodded in agreement, their eyes wide with knowing. Elder Price look around at them–at their side glances and wetting lips. They knew something.

"What… what’s so great about Elder McKinley?” His voice was low; a hoarse whisper. He had a feeling the discussion unfolding was top secret. The Elders exchanged glances and shrugs, but none decided to speak up. Widmar cleared his throat to break the silence.

"It’s nothing, really. He’s just… an especially fun companion to have.“

"Especially fun at _night_ , Elder?” Church whispered. His companion shrieked.

"Elder _Church_!“

"Oh _please_ , Elder. You expect me to sit around and let Elder Price get sucked into all of this too?” The missionary was at a loss for words. His mouth had grown increasingly drier, his heart beating vivaciously against his ribs.

"Sucked into what?“ was all he could cough. The missionaries, again, were hesitant. Elder Church gestured to Widmar; Widmar to Church. Elder Michaels was the one to finally volunteer. He leaned in, so close to Kevin’s face he could smell the remnants of his tuna salad on the boy’s breath.

"Elder McKinley… he’s…” How could he put it? “He’s not interested in girls.”

"He’s a homosexual.“ Church chimed in rudely. Elder Price’s shoulders slumped at the news.

"Is that all?”

"What do you mean 'is that all’?“ Elder Zelder croaked. "A homosexual sleeping beside you every night? And you’re _okay_ with that?!”

"I already knew.“ Elder Price scoffed and tossed his hand about. Elder Neeley laughed under his breath.

"The vests were a pretty big hint.”

"I already told Elder McKinley today that I’m not interested. He understands.“

"So he’s already made a move.” Elder Church seemed unsurprised, shaking his head with molasses-like movement. “What did he try this time?”

"He didn’t try anything, guys! He just said something, and I guess I misinterpreted it. I was nervous; it was all just a misunderstanding.“ He laughed it off with a sip of water. The others were not so easily convinced.

"It always starts with a misunderstanding.” Elder Widmar recited with a grave growl. Elder Church nodded in agreement.

"First, a misunderstanding. The next thing you know, he’s giving you a you-know-what in the linen closet after curfew.“ He gestured to the lot of them, heads bowed in disgrace. "It happened to all of us. It’ll happen to you if you’re not careful, Elder Price.”

The missionary pursed his lips. His heart pounded like a timpani roll. He could barely breathe; his breath was catching, no doubt out of fear and without a scrap of excitement. No doubt.

"But…“ He sputtered. "But I’m not _gay_.” Elder Church shrugged.

"None of us are.”

“He’s charismatic.” Elder Michaels added glumly.

“It happens before you can even think twice.”

“Plus,” Elder Davis was quick to add, “being cooped up in a hut for two years. It gets kind of… lonely.” Elder Price couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Were all of his fellow missionaries–proclaimed devout Mormons–admitting to breaking chastity? With another _man?_

“But what about the Book of Mormon? What about everything you vowed to when you were ordained?” Sweat formed on his brow. No doubt from the heat. No doubt at all.

“Things changed after The Book of Arnold was published, Elder Price.” Elder Church sighed. “A _lot_ of things changed.” The missionaries shut up when the district leader emerged from the mission hut with their prophet. Two by two, they disseminated and scattered back to work towards the village. Elder McKinley handed a box full of prepared Books to Arnold, patted him on the back, and waved him off. Then he caught sight of his partner and smiled brightly.

“Hey-o, Companion! Ready to get back to work?” He chirped. Elder Price swallowed hard at the sight of the leader. Every one of his movements was suddenly a bit more seductive, his lips more pink, his hips rolling with his motions, his eyelids batting ever so slowly. A blush was growing obviously over Kevin’s cheeks.

“Y-yeah.” He nodded, barely choking out the words. And then louder. “Yeah.” Elder McKinley chuckled lightly. His fingers reached out, wrapping round Price’s gingerly to lead him back inside. _Alone._


	3. Chapter 3

Arnold Cunningham knew what he was doing when he wrote his masterpiece. Elder Price sat, in complete awe and disbelief, propped up on his bed at 3:07am with mouth agape. He had finished, and now he was unsure where he should go from here.

All this time, Kevin had thought his former companion to be nothing more than a dorky and socially awkward, less-than-intelligent mess. But this–Kevin took a moment to pray for forgiveness for ever doubting Arnold’s intelligence–was beyond belief. The frumpy Elder Cunningham wrote with such persuasive finesse, such elegant effortlessness, that Kevin felt as if his life had been uprooted and supplanted by something of greater meaning. Each story more inspiring than the last, even despite the ridiculous and constant mentions of Ewoks and Joseph Smith and Captain Kirk. He was inspired. And he suddenly understood the change his fellow missionaries had described earlier that day. It fluttered somewhere deep within his tummy, his eyes glowing with newfound wisdom. He felt, all at once, like a new person.

"Finally finished, Elder?“ A sleepy district leader yawned beside him, so groggy he didn’t stir. Slowly, Kevin nodded, and he placed the red-bound book down on the nightstand beside him. "Can I turn the light off now?” Elder McKinley was already reaching to click off his lamp, but something squealed inside Price’s throat and stopped him short.

"You read it before, right?“ Kevin started gradually. His proposal was still deep within his chest, and he was determined to coax it out through whatever means. The redhead paused with lips pursed, debating whether he would still prefer to just click off the lamp and get his forty winks. But Kevin was asking innocently enough, out of genuine interest, and McKinley’s heart was prone to melting at his mere squeak of a voice. He propped himself up against the headboard, trying his best to fix his hair on such short notice, and folded his hands in his lap at attention. Then he nodded.

"I did.” He smiled. “Actually, I’ve read it a couple times.” Through the gap in his teeth, he gave a small laugh. “Who would’ve thought Elder Cunningham could write so well?”

"Yeah.“ Price could care less. A hand hesitantly reached to rest on his copy, and his long fingers tapped against the foil lettering a couple times. ”…how did you like it?“ McKinley’s hands wrung excitedly in his lap.

"Oh I loved it! We all did.” Ever so slightly, he leaned in his shoulders to get a good look at his companion. The dampened brow, the wide eyes, the chapped lips. There was realization practically radiating from Kevin’s core. The district leader smirked knowingly. “What did I tell you?” Elder Price’s gaze broke from the book beneath his hand and he sputtered out of a terribly forged disbelief.

“What _did_ you tell me?”

“That it would change you.” McKinley reached his surprisingly strong arms up to stretch; a small moan left his lips, and Kevin’s eyes darted back down to the book. “Don’t you feel changed now? More… yourself?” He could feel the district leader’s eyes burning into the back of his head. He wanted something. No doubt just a response, but Elder Price couldn’t help but hope there was something else arising.

“Is that how you felt after you finished? More ‘yourself’?”

“Most definitely.” He chuckled lightly, happily. Kevin swallowed hard. He could easily hold back. Curiosity didn’t always have to have its way.

“…and what does that entail?” _Way to control yourself, Kev._

The district leader stopped his laughter short, his smile faltering as a blush crept over his cheeks. Slowly he bowed his head out of embarrassment and offered a small shrug.

“Well… being comfortable with my… _identity_ , I suppose.” He laughed at his own vague wording. He was trying everything in his power to tiptoe around controversy. But Kevin preferred to approach it head on and stick it right in the eye.

“Your identity?”

“My… _sexuality_ , Elder.”

“You mean being gay.”

Elder McKinley scoffed.

“Yes, Elder Price. Being gay.” He shook his head in disbelief. “You know, if you’re going to keep harping on this, I’ll gladly stick you back with Elder Cunningham. I’m sure Widmar wouldn’t object to rooming with me for another few months.” He pounded a hand on his pillow in a crude attempt to fluff before turning over in a harumph. Kevin rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t, either.”

Elder McKinley lifted his head slightly.

“What did you say?”

Elder Price shook his head nonchalantly.

“Nothing.”

This time, the district leader rolled over and propped himself up with an elbow. Their pale eyes interlocked.  
“No, what did you _say_?”

“ _Nuh_. Thing.”

McKinley was up in a flash, throwing his blanket on the floor in a huff. A strong and accusing finger pointed to poke just before Kevin’s nose. The Elder’s glare was sharp, ice cold with a bite.

“Just what the _heck_ are you insinuating about me, Kevin Price?” The redhead growled. Kevin sat stiff.

“I just…” Suddenly he didn’t feel up to being cocky. “…I may have… heard some things. From the other Elders.” His eyes glanced up. “About you.”

McKinley deflated in a moment. Fear glossed over his eyes–fear that he had been found out, that his reputation with the perfect Kevin Price had been tarnished. He sat back, a sigh hissing out between his teeth.

“Go ahead.” He nodded with molasses-like despair. “Yuck it up. Your gay district leader has been sleeping around; what a surprise.” An odd, out of place twitch ran down the front of Kevin’s garments.

“It’s… _true_?”

“I only offered. I didn’t force myself onto any of them.” Ever so slightly, he blushed. “I honestly wasn’t expecting such an enthusiastic response.” Elder Price was at a loss for words. Hearing it from the missionaries was one thing, but hearing it from the mouth of the district leader himself–he suddenly felt light headed. 

“Why did you…” 

“It started with Thomas. I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand like this. But… word got around and… Elders started knocking on my door at night… and I’m not usually one to pass up sex, honestly.” Elder McKinley glanced up to see the blush growing across Kevin’s face and he clamped his mouth shut. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s… okay.” 

“No it’s not.” 

“I mean, as long as you’re not hurting anyone. And they all _asked_ , right?” He offered a hand on the shorter boy’s shoulder; McKinley leaned into it all too enthusiastically. His head nestled into Kevin’s shoulder to comfortably sniffle. 

“I promise I’m done with it all. No more until I get back home.” His voice cracked, a chastising squeak more to himself than to Kevin. He let out a long sigh. And moved even closer to rest in the crook of the other missionary’s neck. “I just get lonely, yanno?” 

Kevin could only hum in the slightest form of agreement. He really… _didn’t_ know. He had never felt those feelings Elder McKinley and Elder Davis and even Elder Cunningham went on about. That… _urge_. That sense of desperation. It was all foreign to him. 

“Do _you_ ever get lonely?” McKinley lifted his head only slightly to look Kevin in the eyes. And Kevin looked back at him. At his lovely brown eyes and his beautiful red hair and freckled cheeks and plumped lips. 

Maybe… this wasn’t as foreign as he initially had thought. 

“It’s way past curfew, Elder” was what finally blurted from the back of Price’s throat. The redhead seemed to have caught himself just in the knick of time as well, and he hurriedly pulled himself away to sit back on his own bed. Kevin turned over on his side. The district leader did the same. In awkward unison they coughed a “good night” before McKinley clicked off the lamp. 

— 

He couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard he tried–no matter how tight he screwed shut his eyes and no matter how many gosh darn sheep he counted. There was too hot a pang of guilt prickling inside his stomach. That first lick of desire left a nasty aftertaste in Kevin’s wetted mouth, and the saddest part is that he wanted more. The missionaries were too right. There was something oddly tempting about their district leader. Something in the way he looked at them. Maybe in the way he swiveled those hips of his. Or the way he had spoken to Kevin just before, tender and intimate, pulling himself closer and closer. 

These thoughts ran rampant in poor Elder Price’s mind for hours, and his embarrassment radiated off his cheeks in silver moonlight as he tried to swat them down and catch some sleep. He wouldn’t become another disappointment amongst the mission hut’s members. His track record of sins was relatively clean. He intended to keep it that way. This was all too much for him. Too much stimulation, too much change all at one time. And now he was overthinking it. 

Kevin let out a long hissing sigh. _Relax_ , he told himself. _Relax and get some sleep_. He smiled at himself, at his internal optimism. A small nod, and he rolled over to nestle into a comfortable position. 

Who was he kidding, there was no way he was getting to sleep that easily. A groan, a grunt as he heaved off the heavy blanket, and Elder Price reluctantly padded his way into the kitchen for a glass of water. Sweat rolled down his body in the agonizing summer heat, and his stuffy garments did nothing to better his condition. He downed an entire glass. Then another. He wiped off his forehead with the back of a hand. That prickling returned in his tummy and shimmied its way down the front of his garments. Just what the heck had Elder McKinley done to him? 

A few more violent swigs of water left Kevin feeling nothing but sick and confused. He dragged his heavy being back down the hall, past door after door of lucky snoring missionaries. His mouth screwed to a frown at the sight of the nametag on his door: a happy “Elder McKinley and Elder Price”. He pushed his way in slowly, the hinges squeaking, no doubt enough to wake his companion. With tensed shoulders, he awaited a complaint. 

  

He was surprised to see that Elder McKinley was already awake. 

Or maybe embarrassed was more the word. 


	4. Chapter 4

The noises didn’t stop. Not when he took a step inside. Not when he cleared his throat. Not even when he accidentally stubbed his toe on his way back into bed. It was almost as if Elder McKinley _wanted_ Kevin to know what he was doing.

Those wet noises, loud and oddly satisfying to hear, went on persistently under moans pouring from the mouth of a very desperate district leader. Kevin settled under the scratchy blanket with no intention of sleeping. The new and unusual heat from his body was unbearable in the summer balm of Uganda. But he didn’t dare throw off his blanket to reveal what was tenting the front of his garments, tightening the sheer fabric to the point of anguish. Even if Elder McKinley was… _preoccupied_.

Elder Neeley had said it before–Price was their last scrap of hope. All the other boys had thrown their vows of chastity out the window without hesitation. It was up to Kevin Price, savior of Uganda District 9, to keep the entire location on its last limb.

 

But then again, who would have to know?

 

He made himself nice and comfortable under the crocheted blanket. Or as comfortable as he could manage in the sweltering heat. For a few minutes he just lay listening. Occasionally his eyes would glance over, and against the crack of light from the door he would catch a glimpse of Elder McKinley feverishly palming himself. With every moment, Kevin felt himself growing harder and harder. Soon his stubborn erection was straining against his shorts, throbbing along with the heartbeat in his ears. Waiting, longing. A shaking hand with no prior experience found its way down the front of his garments. His fingertips gently massaged at the skin of his base. He cooed gratefully under his breath.

“Oh, Kevin…” was the district leader’s coincidental urge to continue. The pang of lust inside Elder Price’s core drowned out all scraps of doubt. His hand went to work, forming a tighter fist to work up and down his length just as McKinley had. And by gosh did it feel great. Kevin could safely begin to moan out of sheer pleasure. But as he continued, and was subject to the leader’s pitch elevating as he went, he realized he wasn’t going to get anywhere by tossing his penis around like a can of pop. He gave a dissatisfied whine to the ceiling.

“Kevin…” This one was less of a moan. “Kevin.” It came again. “ _Elder Price_.” The brunette snapped his eyes open to a mission companion not more than two inches from his own body. Instinctively he pulled his hand away to avoid suspicion, showing his ten free fingers proudly. Elder McKinley wasn’t moved. He parted his wetted lips, brown eyes fixed on whatever was tenting the front of Kevin’s garments.

“Can I help?” It wasn’t exactly a question, considering his hand already finding its way under the other’s underwear. Elder Price suppressed a whimper at the first foreign touch. His eyes clamped shut and he violently shook his head no. The district leader moved in closer.

“Let me help, Elder.” The familiar sound of a comforting title eased Kevin’s nerves ever so slightly. He let loose a heavy breath he didn’t realize he had been holding and slowly moved back onto his elbows. Elder McKinley’s hand worked sweetly, up and down in a strange and hypnotic rhythm, using all five fingers to his advantage. It didn’t take long for the brunette to give in completely, allowing those caged moans and yelps to finally make their escape off his tongue. The smaller boy nodded knowingly.

“Relax, honey.” He cooed, and his free hand moved to push Price all the way down. The Elder only obeyed for a moment before he popped back up in protest.

“Wh… what about _you_?” His whisper was dry and trembling. The district leader shook his head without losing his pace.

“Don’t worry about me, Kevin.”

“But Elder–”

“Sweetie, you’re out of uniform. It’s after curfew.” He placed a loving peck on the other’s cheek. “You can call me ‘Connor’ now.” He leaned down to place another peck on the head of Kevin’s cock. Price paused to purr in approval.

“…‘Connor’?”

“My _name_?” Connor nuzzled his nose and lips against the other’s penis, humming and breathing lightly against his blush. Kevin opened his mouth in a fit of protest, knocked out short by another pang of excruciating pleasure. The redhead hushed him promptly. “Forget about the rules, Kev. Just let yourself have this. Just for tonight.” Connor’s mouth opened in a tight oval as punctuation before he sunk down around his companion’s entire length. Forgetting about all the rules in a blinding flash, Kevin threw his head back and moaned for all of Uganda to hear. His district leader repaid him with a groan that vibrated in his throat and tickled Price’s cock in just the right way. He grabbed hold of Connor’s brilliant red hair out of sheer instinct. And he pulled hard. The missionary gasped at the sudden sting, but only began to bob his head faster in response. Kevin tried again. This time McKinley uttered a low “yeah”. His free hand, not busy massaging the tender spot behind the missionary’s balls, shot down to begin working his own cock. Price rolled his eyes, and with all his strength he propped himself back up against the headboard.

“Elder…” He rephrased when he met the other’s harsh glare. “Connor… I don’t want you to have to, er… _pleasure_ yourself.” The district leader cocked his head, humorously puzzled.

“Hon, it’s no big deal. I mean, I’m obviously used to it by now.” The fingers on his dominant left hand danced to exhibit skill. Kevin grabbed his wrist.

“If you get to help me, I get to help you.” His eyes locked on Connor’s. Determination sparked somewhere in his pupil. The redhead smiled with satisfaction.

“If you insist.” Connor pulled himself upright and took a moment to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. His lips smacked together–something thick and viscous shimmered off them in the moonlight and made Kevin’s cock adopt its own steady pulse. And it only intensified when Connor climbed over onto the missionary’s thighs, straddling them with his thicker and much stronger legs. A small “shhhh” of reassurance dripped through the gap in his teeth when the brunette whined at a new touch–the touch of another boy’s penis against his own. McKinley smiled down with content arousal, breathing heavily through his nose as his hand worked both their cocks at once. The stark contrast between the two of them was something incredible; one short and thick, the other long and slim but both just as slicked and throbbing for relief. Kevin couldn’t hold back from an instinctual buck of his hips once they developed a steady pace. And once the two of them felt comfortable enough, they resorted to full out humping like pathetic religious virgins (Kevin wasn’t sure how much of that applied to his district leader by this point).

Price’s cock rubbed tenderly between McKinley’s soft thighs, and the mere heat from another was enough to get the redhead off just fine. The two moaned and panted and drooled with crossed eyes until relief surged through their cores. Just as quick as they had begun, it had all ended in a few sticky splotches about their bodies. Thick and viscous and every bit as surprisingly pleasant as Kevin had hoped. Connor took a moment to ride out his orgasm before he collapsed onto his companion’s chest, drenched with sweat beneath his undershirt. He nuzzled a cheek under the brunette’s neck with a sigh.

“So much for promises, hmm?” He chirped. Kevin chuckled under his still heaving breath.

“Yeah…” His head was swirling with thick thoughts and clouds. So much had just happened. What _was_ any of that?

Connor peppered his companion with sweet kisses up and down his neck. Kevin leaned into them despite his obvious confusion.

“I can’t believe we did that.” The redhead laughed. His eyes fluttered closed, and he finally settled down fully into the crook of the other boy’s neck. “We had _sex_.”

Kevin laughed once as he began to doze off himself.

“Yeah…”

 

Then he eyes snapped open.

_We had **sex**._


End file.
